


Of Sea and Stars and Dreams

by Mareel



Series: Without Change [5]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Family, Gen, Grandmothers, Homophobia, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Pre-Canon, Sailing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 12:12:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2348042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mareel/pseuds/Mareel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Weighing anchor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Sea and Stars and Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> This is pre-canon, at the time Malcolm is just going to join Starfleet. It is part of the [Without Change](http://archiveofourown.org/series/45835) set of AU stories and is a look back at events referenced in [The White Swan](http://archiveofourown.org/works/814386). It is Malcolm's voice. Maggie MacLeod is his maternal grandmother. 
> 
> There is brief mention of a past relationship. This could be the one described in [The Boatman](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1763605).

 

________________________________________________

 

This is the last day of my old life. 

Tomorrow I leave for San Francisco to join Starfleet. Actually I told my mum I was going there two weeks ago when I left the family home in Malaysia. My father wasn’t speaking to me, so I assume she told him. It shouldn’t have come as any surprise to him, but he has never believed I’d actually choose my own life’s path. 

But before going to California, I stopped in Scotland for a visit with my Gran, on Skye. She is nothing but supportive of my choice, and has always been. I credit her with keeping me sane as I grew up under my father’s heavy hand and long shadow. A month here in the summer every year was my respite. It was always a chance to think and dream and to explore who I was and who I wanted to become. 

An early riser, she finds me this morning, ensconced in my usual spot in the moss-covered rocky alcove on the headlands. 

“Come for a sail with me, Malcolm. One last time… make an old woman happy.”

She’s seen many years, but I’d never call her old. She has lived a life rich in friends and family and experiences. The contrast between her life and that of her daughter Mary – my mum – is striking. One of them has lived; the other settled and endures. I know which of these women I want to be most proud of me. 

“All right, just a day sail. I have to leave early in the morning, you know.” 

“I know. And the _Eala Bhan_ is ready. I saw to that myself. I even brought your weather gear and sailing gloves.”

I hadn’t noticed the pack she’d brought along, but sure enough, everything is there along with a packet of tea and sandwiches in case we get peckish before turning for home. 

“Right, then let’s go! Is anyone else going to come along?” I suspect not; we’ve sailed together enough times to be comfortable with each other and the boat. My father finds it unbelievable that I’d sail with her on an old wooden boat, but avoid being on the water with him under any circumstances. The thought of his exasperation at me brings back too many memories of a childhood best forgotten.

She shakes her head and accepts the hand I extend to her to help her up from the rocks. Her knees aren’t what they were, but she’s too proud to admit it to most people. “Just us, Malcolm. I thought you’d prefer that.”

She knows me well, and accepts my penchant for solitude. As she accepts the rest of me, including my other preferences – a topic so taboo in my father’s house that my mum once asked me to never mention it again in his hearing. I obliged her – she feels compelled to stay with him for some reason – but spent as little time in their home as possible.

________________________________

 

We cast off from the dock in Staffin Bay and motor out to open water before setting the sails. The breeze today is brisk, but the weather is clear as we head out into the Minch. There aren’t many boats about and we make long lazy tacks, simply enjoying the beauty of the day and one another’s company. 

Light clouds chase across the sky, and the sea seems very blue all the way to the horizon. We’ve sailed this route so often that it doesn’t require much navigation. We’re a well-matched team on the boat. She’s the one who made sure I not only learned to sail properly, but also came to actually enjoy it despite my aquaphobia. 

“I won’t have anyone to sail with after you go off to travel the stars, Malcolm.” Her voice is matter-of-fact, with no trace of self-pity. 

“I won’t be going on starships for a few years, Gran. There’s a lot of studying and training to be done.” Touching her hand lightly, I add, “I’m sure I’ll be able to get leave to come visit you.”

She smiles, patting my hand. “Malcolm Reed, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine here. I just hope you will find someone you can talk to, someone you’ll enjoy being with… someone to love, who’ll love you back.”

It’s not something we’ve spoken much of… love. She’s never hinted about wanting a great-grandchild or tried to set me up with anyone, probably because she witnessed first-hand my devastating first love affair with one of the local boys a few summers ago. 

“That will be as it will, I’m sure. I doubt there’ll be anyone I’d care to sail with though. And you? Are you going to keep the boat?”

She gives me a look that makes me feel like an idiot for asking. Of course she’ll keep the boat. It was named for her by her late husband – her first sailing partner, the love of her life who died too young. She’ll treasure the _Eala Bhan_ until her last breath. Maybe because it’s all she has left of him. 

“She’ll be here whenever you want to come by. Maybe… one day… you’ll bring someone along to sail her with you. Someone important to you.”

I have my doubts about that, but don’t want to spoil this day with my insecurities. It’s more of a day for dreaming. 

“I hope so. I’d like that very much.”

_______________________________________

 


End file.
